


Blaze and Phoenix

by Abhorsen44



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, F/M, M/M, Star Wars Characters as X-Men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-16 06:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abhorsen44/pseuds/Abhorsen44
Summary: Baze Malbus never wanted his powers. But when Professor Leia Organa invites him to her school for gifted youngsters, he starts to realize that his crazy ability can be used for something. Dark forces are at work, however, and rumors of a war between mutants and humans result in some major conflicts. Can Chirrut help Baze keep his center, or was this another thing that his powers would destroy?





	1. It wasn't a bomb

**Author's Note:**

> I am obsessed with the idea of all of my Star Wars babbies as X-Men, I have so many ideas and side stories that I'm still trying to figure out which direction I want to go in!   
> Thanks so much to my beta, KR! This is the first time I've been brave enough to let anyone read my work before posting and she is brilliant!

Baze’s hand was shaking. He glared at it where it rested against the counter. Baze was not the kind of guy who tolerated weakness in himself. Strength in body, strength in resolve, was all that had gotten him through the recent hell that had become his life. He didn’t have time for a breakdown, he had to keep moving. 

The last foster home hadn’t been so bad, actually. That was the problem. They noticed when he skipped school, they noticed the fighting; they definitely noticed the school exploding. Baze scrubbed at his eyes, wishing he had enough courage to finish it once and for all. The pattern of scars around his eyes is what got him evicted from the previous home, and what netted him a ‘self-harm’ label. It wasn’t self-harm – it wasn’t – but trying to explain that he had tried to gouge his own eyes out in order to protect other people wouldn’t have gone over very well. It was just as well that he hadn’t succeeded. 

Baze let his head thunk on the counter, grateful that the waitress at this diner dive had taken one look at him and his scarred face and skedaddled after she had plunked down his coffee. Those punks at school had sure skedaddled, too, after Baze got mad enough to use more than his fists. He could handle the taunts about his face, the whispered looks and stares, and if he needed to get physical it wasn’t a hardship. At 15 he towered over his classmates, and his one hobby (if you could call it that) was cross-training, letting his mind go and concentrating on the parts of his body he could control. But when he caught those bullies beating the crap out of Kurt, calling him a fag and threating to break his hands, Baze had lost it. 

And now the school had no gym.

Sweet Kurt, who had actually tried to talk to a withdrawn Baze when he had started school here, who was always drawing in his little sketchbook and who had shyly shown Baze a cartoon of their teacher that had Baze actually snickering aloud during class. Gentle Kurt, who had looked at him with the same terror and fear as he had given to his attackers before fleeing from the monster Baze had become. 

Monster. Freak. Mutant.

Baze straightened on his stool as he heard the diner door ring open behind him. Seeing the reflection of a state trooper behind him, he decided to finish up his coffee before they threw him out. He couldn’t be angry at the waitress for calling the cops; he would have done the same thing if a scarred, freaky teenager had barged in demanding coffee at 4am. Finishing the coffee (which was crap coffee, but Baze’s deep love and respect for the caffeine bean knew no bounds), Baze slouched down on his stool and tried to stay calm. This was not the time to lose control.

He heard the footsteps cross the linoleum floor and stop beside him. The trooper took a seat. “Hello there, son,” the trooper said, taking off her hat and setting it on the counter beside her, “Drinking the coffee? Brave of you.” 

Baze didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look up. If he didn’t look, he couldn’t hurt them. The trooper raised her voice. “Marie? Can we get a couple slices of the gooey butter cake over here?” 

Baze flinched as the door opened again and a burley trooper clomped in. “Ya got ‘im, Jess?” he said, “cause I gotta pee.” 

“Charming, Snap, thank you for sharing,” the woman – Jess – called back, equal parts amused and exasperated. To Baze she said, “Do I got you?”

Baze slowly lifted his gaze as the other trooper continued stomping to the restroom. Her name tag read ‘Pava’. “For what?” he said shortly, not meeting her eyes. 

“Have you heard anything about a bomb going off in a school gym?” she asked, no longer seeming quite so amiable. 

Baze stiffened, trying not to let any sort of emotion escape, to not let the red haze creep over his mind. “It wasn’t a bomb,” he said quietly. 

“No, it wasn’t,” said Pava, “Bomb’s don’t cut buildings in half like some sort of space laser. Ah, thanks, Marie.” She said to the waitress who had brought over two to-go containers, presumably with their desserts. The trooper hopped up; “Well, come on then.” 

Baze didn’t move. He didn’t know if he was being arrested or what, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like what happened next. He tried hard not to panic but he was tired and hungry and scared, and it was like trying to stop a waterfall. His vision started to pink, he clenched his fists and bleakly wondered if this was the time he killed someone. 

‘Close your eyes, Baze Malbus,’ a tickling voice in his mind said. Baze coughed out a laugh but complied with the voice. Always knew he was crazy. 

‘Not crazy,’ the voice said again, sternly. 

“D’ya need some help there, Jess?” Snap asked from across the room, just as the diner door opened again. Busy place for 4 o’clock in the morning, Baze though as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Hello, Pava. Wexley.” A woman’s voice. Older, Baze thought. Authoritative. Familiar. 

“Ah, Professor – one of yours then?” Baze heard Pava move away but kept his eyes shut, hunching over the stool. 

“He will be. Baze, dear?” the Professor said. Baze felt as though a cool breeze shuffled through his head. “Go ahead and open your eyes.”

“Not safe.” Baze could feel himself shaking again. A hand touched his hair and he flinched away. The voice spoke simultaneously aloud and in his mind: “Baze Malbus, open your eyes.” 

Impossible not to obey. In front of Baze was a woman whose face perfectly matched her voice. Stern eyes with laugh lines and steel gray hair belying a youthful smirk. “Not crazy,” she said; “Not crazy. Special.”


	2. Leia Organa's School For Gifted Youngsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baze manages to keep it together.

Professor Leia Organa prided herself on her composure, but one look at that poor, miserable teenager made her heart lurch. The first brush of her mind against his had revealed a gentle, terrified giant who needed to not be alone anymore. A fighter, but not cruel – protective. Leia pushed down her urge to mother the boy and said briskly, “Come along, then, Baze dear.”

Baze looked at her, then stood, towering over Leia and the two troopers. He took a step then stopped, looking lost. He glanced back at the counter, and Leia could tell that he had instinctively stopped to make sure he hadn’t forgotten his backpack. “You didn’t have one,” she said, recalling the report from the school ‘bombing’ that had stated that the subject was unarmed and carried nothing with him. Not that he had anything of his own anyway, Leia thought somewhat bitterly, nothing that her school couldn’t provide. It was upsetting how high the percentage of mutants in foster care was. Since she had already invaded his privacy to put the calming block in she gave him a bit of a push with her mind, saying again, “Come, Baze.” 

Baze followed Leia outside, barely noticing the state troopers that trailed out behind him. In a daze he followed her to a sedate Ford Fusion and was buckled in before he could blink. Leia waved to Pava and Wexley as she pulled out of the diner parking lot, Wexley already digging into his to-go container of cake. 

Leia kept an eye on the poor lad as she drove, he still looked bewildered but was glancing around a bit more. The town gave way to dense woods and after 15 minutes of unbroken silence he turned to her and said, “Where are we going?” His voice was low and tired, and Leia debated with herself what to tell him.

“My family owns some land about another half-hour north of here, on Lake Alderaan. Fancy shmancy, I know. Enough time for a short nap before we get there, if you want to.” Leia almost added a psychic push to her words but decided that Baze was handling this about as well as could be expected and didn’t need more cognitive interference. Baze clearly struggled internally with questions and inhaled sharply before saying, “Ok,” and staring out the window. 

Leia mentally catalogued what she needed to do before they reached the school. The alert had gone out yesterday for a boy of unknown powers who had caused massive property damage and was extremely dangerous. The destroyed school had been within 100 miles of Lake Alderaan so she had looked into it, watching interviews of the ‘victims’ and printing off pictures of the damage to study. In the end, Leia hadn’t even needed to use Cerebro to find Baze; she could feel the approaching swirl of power and teen angst that characterized so many of her students. Leia pinpointed his direction and made a quick call to sympathetic local Trooper Jessika Pava, then hopped into her car. 

So many things could have gone wrong. But enough went right, Leia thought, glancing over at Baze before turning into the long road towards the school. Baze’s eyes went wide at his first sight of the mansion, the Organa Ancestral Home, although now of course it was converted. A discreet sign out front simply read: Leia Organa’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

…

Baze wondered if he was dreaming. Or dead. Had the gym fallen on him after all, and this journey had been – what, purgatory? Hell? He looked over at the Professor. The Professor parked the car in front of the stupidly large house and looked back at Baze calmly. 

“My name is Professor Leia Organa and this is my school. It is a school for gifted students, mostly mutants, who need help and a safe place to learn to control their powers. You, Baze, are now one of my students. You are welcome here. You are safe here.” She held his gaze. “I swear to you, Baze Malbus, that you will not be a danger to yourself or others while you are at my school. I won’t let you, sweetie.” 

Baze felt something inside him relax that he hadn’t realized was twisted up, and did not notice he had started crying until the Professor grabbed a tissue from the console and handed it to him. “Now, now,” she said awkwardly, “everything is fine. Will be fine. But first let’s get out of the car, yes?” Leia leapt out of the car and Baze wiped his face before opening the door. Unfolding himself from the car he carefully closed the side door as he watched the Professor hurry around and grab his arm. “The front can be quite imposing, but we’ve expanded the interior and you’d be surprised how comfortable it is once you get away from the Victorian furnishings. My husband hates the main house. The regular classes are in this upper hall and the back half of the west wing is for training. East wing is dormitories. We were a bit optimistic when we chopped up all of the old suites so you might even have a room to yourself.” She had led him in through the front and nudged him into a smaller room that turned out to be an office. The Professor walked around to the other side of the desk and Baze immediately felt out of place. “Don’t worry about classes for this week, we will work on getting you settled. Now if my brother were here this would fall under his prevue, but as it is…” There was a knock on the door and a handsome dark skinned man popped his head around the corner. “You rang, General?”

“Thank you, Finn. This is Baze Malbus, our newest pupil. Would you mind showing him to his room and getting him settled in? Finn is one of our teachers, Baze, ask him any questions you have about the school as you get acquainted.” Leia smiled but it was a clear dismissal, so Baze quietly followed Finn out of the office. 

“Hey, man, you need a minute?” Finn asked, and Baze nodded, suddenly not able to breathe. Finn led Baze through another hallway and out the back of the Mansion. It was still dark, everything was quiet except Baze’s haggard breathing. 

“You know, when I first got here I didn’t even have a name. I was an experiment,” Finn held his arms out expressively, “a genetic experiment on mutants. And lab rats don’t have names. My designation was FN-2187, and I didn’t know any other life. When I came here it was a whole different thing; I didn’t know how to talk to people, it was like I was this weird robot that had no idea how to interact with other humans.” Finn laughed, and Baze smiled briefly. 

“I get that this is new and strange, Baze my man,” Finn said earnestly, “But new doesn’t necessarily mean bad. You come to me if you got any questions. I probably won’t know the answers – unless it’s about history, I’m totally the history teacher – but I will know who does. It’s going to be ok.” 

And Baze thought, for the first time ever, that it might be ok.


	3. Waking up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, everyone! I've expanded the outline and added a couple of chapters, not to mention all of the side universes that are distracting me. Ah, well, we'll get there eventually, right? Enjoy!

Baze rolled over and turned off his alarm clock. 

That was the plan. In reality, Baze rolled over and off the unfamiliar bed, hitting the floor. Distantly he realized that the sound that had woken him was not an alarm, but some sort of bell noise coming from the hallway. He scrambled to his feet. 

Again, that was the plan. What actually happened was that Baze tripped on the hem of the over-sized, unfamiliar pajama bottoms and went sprawling. Face down on the floor Baze decided he should probably take stock of his situation before trying to move again. 

The school. Right. The mutant school. The bell was probably a school bell. Was he late? For what?

Baze carefully got to his feet and rolled the waistband of the pajamas up so that he wouldn’t trip. He remembered the teacher – Finn – handing him a pile of clothes last night – this morning? – and falling into bed. 

He looked around his new room. A twin bed. A desk. A sink – that was nice. Baze walked over to the window and stared. He had half expected some woods, or a manicured lawn. Not what looked like an obstacle course and a helicopter landing pad. 

Where the hell had he ended up? 

Baze crossed to the door and listened; not hearing anyone, he opened the door and stepped out. 

“Nice,” said the girl who was standing in the hallway across from his room. She gave Baze an assessing up-and-down look and winked before walking backwards. Through the wall. Baze blinked and looked down. “Right. Shirt.” 

Baze scurried back into his room and closed the door. Was this going to be his life now? People talking in his mind and walking through walls? The knock on his door a moment later startled him into action. “One sec!” he said, grabbing the t-shirt that he hadn’t slept in and tripped over to the door. The waistband of the pajamas had come unrolled again. 

Behind the door was an incredibly handsome man with wavy, dark hair and a brown leather jacket. “Hi?” said Baze unsurely as the man glanced at his t-shirt and his polite smile broke into a wide, genuine grin. Baze glanced down. ‘UNSTOPPABLE’ roared a cartoon T-Rex, who was apparently brandishing two of those grabber reach thingies in its tiny hands. 

“That’s Finn’s shirt, right? I’m Poe. Finn teaches a 3rd period class and asked if I would take you to the cafeteria for lunch.”

“Um,” said Baze, looking at his cobbled together outfit, “What time is it?” 

“It’s one o’clock, sleepy-head, you wer-,“ Poe abruptly stopped in the middle of his sentence and got a funny, far-off look on his face. He blinked and smiled at Baze again. “Leia says there should be some clothes for you in the dresser. Also that you can sleep as long as you want. But I am thinking you want some lunch, yeah? So let’s go; clothes, food, tour, questions, assessment, let’s do this!” Poe enthusiastically clapped his hands together then shooed Baze back into his room. 

Baze blinked at his closed door then rushed over to the dresser. Right. Clothes. Underwear, trousers, shirt. Basic colors – Baze appreciated the thought while at the same time being completely unnerved that someone had bought clothing in his exact size. Knowing that someone was waiting for him, Baze hurriedly brushed his teeth with the provided toothbrush (still in the package) but paused before leaving his room again. He picked up the discarded sleep clothes and his clothing from yesterday and placed them into a laundry basket by the door. He smoothed out the bed (he had been so tired he hadn’t actually gotten in between the sheets) and took one last look around. Better.

He closed the door behind him and then looked at Poe who said, “It’s your space, no one will go in without permission. The downside is you have to clean your own room, which some of the kids have trouble with.” Poe pointed next to the door, “That’s your room number; everyone decorates their door so they know who’s who, but for now you’re going to have to remember that you are in dorm 44.”

Baze nodded and followed Poe down the hallway. Now that he wasn’t exhausted and scared he could appreciate the vaulted ceilings and polished woodwork, even though they made him feel even more out of place. They walked towards what Baze remembered was the center wing, and he could hear talking and movement from upstairs as they passed the main hall. “Classes are in the upper hall. It’s the start of the third period class of the day which is right after lunch. Food is down here,” Poe said as they started down the stairs, “They dug out and converted two of the basements to make a cafeteria. They still have the fancy dining room upstairs, but no one eats there except when The Professor makes us or there’s a party.” 

The cafeteria was empty and brightly lit. Poe sat Baze down at one of the long tables and jogged over to the serving area, through a door into what was presumably the kitchen. Baze guessed that if the tables were completely full there would be something like a hundred people; at his last school the sophomore class alone was over three thousand kids. He had his own room here, too. 

“How many people live here?” Baze asked as Poe set down two trays filled with a hodgepodge of food. Macaroni and cheese, some chicken, broccoli, rice, a slice of pizza…

“It varies, usually between sixty and eighty people. That includes teachers,” Poe added, “I just grabbed some leftovers from out of the fridge.”

Baze nodded, opening the soda. “Oh, hey, sorry about that, it’s not cold. They hide it in the back pantry from the students. Hang on.” Still eating with one hand Poe reached over and grabbed the side of Baze’s soda can. Baze felt a blast of cold and when Poe took his hand away he saw the imprint of a palm ringed in frost on the can. “Maybe wait a sec on drinking that, I might have overdone it.” Poe said with a shrug and another bite of food. 

The casual use of mutant power left Baze staring at Poe with big eyes. “Eat!” Poe demanded, “Ask questions! Then we’ll go get your class schedule and introduce you to some of the less annoying students.”

Baze obediently took a bite of food before asking, “So you –“ Baze wiggled his fingers, “and everybody here?” 

“If by,” Poe wiggled his fingers, “you mean does everyone here have mutant powers?” Baze nodded yes. “To varying degrees. Some are obvious, physical mutations. Some are mental or psychokinetic. And some are so nebulous as to be almost coincidence. The Professors husband, Han, swears up and down that he’s not a mutant, but he and Leia met after he miraculously landed a crashing plane that should have been impossible. They’ve been fighting about it ever since.” 

“So the Professor?” Baze asked, pointing at the side of his head. 

“Is a telepath. You’ll get into it more in your Ethics of Powered Responsibility class, but she’s not going to spy on you or make anyone do stuff.” Baze stammered out a denial, and Poe laughed before shoving his now empty tray away, “Well, that’s what I thought when I first got here! Took me ages to stop skulking around being suspicious.”

“So will I have to, um,” Baze started, then just waved is hand again.

“Yeah, buddy, you’ll have powers training. Along with a full curriculum of history, sciences, math, English, and all the other boring classes.” Poe winked. 

“Can’t you just make it go away?” Baze asked plaintively. 

Poe looked serious; “I wouldn’t if I could, Baze. It’s part of you, as scary as it seems right now. The trick with powers is finding out what they can be used for, both good and bad. One of our seniors, Angel, has beautiful dragonfly wings to fly with and spits acid by accident sometimes when she talks. It balances out. Done?” Poe grabbed the trays before Baze could reply. 

Good? The only thing Baze was good for was destruction. Uncontrollable death lasers shooting from your eyes was the stuff of nightmares, but if he could learn how to turn it off? Maybe once Baze had done something awful here the Professor would fix his brain, make it so he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Or maybe he would magically learn how to control his powers and become a wonderful contributing member of this weird mutant cult he had landed in. Not likely.

Baze stood and joined Poe at the door. “Right!” Poe said, “To the office for your schedule and books.” As he trudged after Poe, Baze wondered how long he would last at this school. A destroyed mansion was much more expensive than a school gym. Lost in thought Baze barely heard the bell ring, and had to abruptly step backwards as Poe suddenly stopped to let a stream of students pass. 

“Ow,” came a voice from behind Baze, and he realized that he had accidently stepped on someone’s foot, “Watch where you’re going.”

“You watch where you’re going,” Baze shot back automatically. The young man Baze had knocked into turned towards him and Baze cringed as he took in the other boy’s sightless, milky eyes. And cane. And small, delicate frame that Baze had crashed into. God, he was such an asshole.

The kid smirked; “I would if I could. Asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my awesome beta KR.


	4. Blaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day?? Whaaaa?!?!!

Baze’s nickname for the first week of school was ‘Asshole’. No one was mean about it, most smiled when they said it, but Baze still felt bad. For two days he avoided talking as much as he could, kept his head down in classes and spent meals in his room. He was leaving his room on the second day when he tripped and went sprawling. 

“Hey, Asshole.” It was the kid Baze had bumped into, the blind one; “What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Baze mumbled, getting to his feet and hunching his shoulders. 

“Sorry? For what? Sorry for avoiding me like the plague even when we are in the same classes? Sorry for not even going to eat lunch so everyone is worried about you? Is that what you are sorry for? Because if you are sorry for knocking me over that first day, don’t be. See? I just tripped you. On purpose, even. So we are totally square. Because if you are going to keep being a jerk just because you bumped me that one time I will gladly beat the shit out of you to prove you don’t have to feel guilty. Deal?” the kid held out his hand. It was about on level with Baze’s thigh. This kid was tiny. Baze gingerly shook his hand, stumbling when he turned abruptly and started dragging Baze behind him. 

“Um?” said Baze.

“According to Finn you have yet to decorate your door. It’s tradition.” They stopped in front of a door that read ‘Phoenix’ in a truly hideous mismatched pink and orange, and the kid announced loudly, “Got him!”

The door opened and Baze would have run – ahem, strode away calmly – if the other boy hadn’t held firm to his hand. There were at least 8 people crammed into the tiny dorm room. 

“Good work, Chirrut,” said someone who was lazily playing cards on the bed. He was in one of Baze’s classes, and his name was something like Gamble? Gambit? Baze couldn’t really throw stones on the weird name front, but this school had a lot of odd ones. Gamble continued, “Hi, Asshole! Welcome to LOS Mutants.” 

“Thanks? Los what?” 

“You know,” said Chirrut, shoving Baze towards the open desk chair, “Leia Organa School, LOS Mutants…. It was funnier at four in the morning when we came up with it.” Chirrut hopped up on the desk next to Baze. “So that is Gambit on the bed, why are you on my bed? Did you take off your shoes? Take off your goddamn shoes. Then there’s Kitty, Clint, Kurt, Jubilee, Petra, Lorna and Maz.”

“We’ve met.” Baze blushed as Kitty winked at him. She was the one who could walk through doors and had seen him shirtless his first day here. He shared at least one class with all of them, and even though he hadn’t talked to anyone he recognized them. 

“And that,” said Gambit, flicking one of his cards at him, “is the illustrious Chirrut Îmwe. Otherwise known as ‘Made-the-new-kid-cry’ Îmwe. Finn was not happy.”

“He bumped into me!” Chirrut objected, throwing a pencil with unnerving accuracy at Gambit’s head. 

“Sorry,” Baze rumbled, and Chirrut leaned briefly against his shoulder. 

“It’s not like you did it on purpose. If you had meant to hit me I would have seen it and been able to dodge, you just stepped out of nowhere!” Chirrut grimaced. 

“Really?” asked Baze, “I thought you were, um.”

“Blind? Yeah, he’s blind. But he can see more than the rest of us using his AMAZING PSYCHIC POWERS WOOEEEOOOEEEOOO,” Jubilee giggled, wiggling her fingers. 

“Telepathic. Slightly telekinetic. NOT woooeeeoooeee or whatever nonsense,” Chirrut sniffed, “I can sort of feel the space around me and sense where people are planning to go, that’s all. It’s usually fine.”

Gambit snorted. “That’s amazing,” Baze said to Chirrut, who blushed and threw another pencil and Gambit. Gambit caught it and asked, “Who brought the paper?” Everyone started pulling out bits of paper and constructions paper from their bags, pens and markers and one girl even had what looked like an entire paint set. 

They all looked at Baze. “Well?” Chirrut asked.

Baze had no idea what they wanted. Was he supposed to have brought paper, too? But Chirrut just dragged him here without saying anything, so…

“Your name, Asshole,” Gambit sighed. “Not that we won’t write ‘Asshole’ on your door, but Finn would get all I-am-a-disappointed-puppy and then no one is happy.”

“My door?” asked Baze? 

“Yes, your door. It’s a tradition to put your name, the name you want, on your door. We are helping, because you haven’t done it yet and also because we feel sorry for you,” Jubilee stated matter-of-factly, cutting what could be either a flower or a spider out of felt with scissors. 

“Thanks? I-“ Baze was cut off by Chirrut, “Blaze. It’s Blaze, right?”

“Um, my name is Baze Malbus, I don’t-“ 

“No, no, not your real name, I mean you can – CLINT – be all boring but most of us have like, nicknames? Like Poe is Iceman, really, and Finn is Colossus and Gambit won’t tell us but I guess his real name is Fred. Like that. You’re Blaze, right?” Chirrut was leaning over intently. 

“You don’t have to, he just wants someone else to have a fire name aside from him and Kylo-Pyro-Dickhead-Ren,” Kitty assured him. 

“No, I… like it,” Baze said. Blaze said. He’d never had a nickname. 

“Yes!” Chirrut pumped his fist in the air, “Bring on the fire colors!”

“Don’t worry, chéri, you can pick the colors so that they aren’t all Chirrut-tastic,” Gambit said leisurely, still playing with his cards.

“What is wrong with my door?” Chirrut demanded, grabbing another pencil off the desk and pointing it threateningly towards the bed. 

“Nothing, nothing. If you’re high the colors work great.”

Baze jolted at Chirrut’s shriek of rage, “AAAAAHHH you said they were fine! You said it was fine! YOU,” he grabbed at Baze, “I NEED YOUR EYES.”

Baze was dragged to the door to the giggling of the rest of the room. Chirrut very pointedly slammed it shut and he and Baze stood staring at the letters. They really were horribly garish. 

“Ok so I don’t like doing this because people’s brains are weird and anxious and hyper and give me a headache, but I really want to see what the hell they did to my door so just sort of focus and stay calm?” Chirrut reached out a hand and Baze tensed. “Only if you’re cool with it,” Chirrut continued, “Someone said it tickles a little but doesn’t hurt, and I’m not trained enough to pick up much beyond surface thoughts so it’s not like I’m getting your inner monologue.” 

“Sure,” Baze found himself saying, and Chirrut gently touched his arm. 

It was a bit ticklish, like someone running their fingers through your hair, but Baze concentrated on the door and the hideous pink and orange letters and drawings. Baze wondered why Chirrut had picked Phoenix. 

Chirrut made an agonized noise and Baze wondered if he had heard his thought. “Are you ok? Do you have a headache?” Baze asked anxiously. 

“No, it’s just. So. BAD!” Chirrut wailed, clutching Baze’s arm, “It doesn’t look like a phoenix at all, it looks like someone lit a fat chicken on fiiiiire!” 

Baze started laughing and Chirrut leaned against him; “So, no headache?”

“Surprisingly not,” Chirrut answered. “You have a very ordered mind, Blaze. It’s… it’s actually really nice.”

Baze wasn’t sure what to say. “Anytime?” he tried. 

Chirrut turned to Baze and smiled; “I’m warning you, I’ll take you up on that. Everyone says I need to watch Frozen but I haven’t been able to get through more than the first 15 minutes, even with Finn.” 

There was giggling from the other side of the door and Baze realized that everyone had been listening in on the conversation. He was very aware of Chirrut leaning against him and jumped when Kitty’s head phased through the door. “Nice,” she said, looking the two of them up and down, and grinned as a chorus of “Let it go, let it gooooo!” started up from inside the room. 

“I hate you all,” Chirrut said, deadpan, as he used his mind to levitate a pencil and hurl it at Gambit.


	5. Introduction to Powers Training Seminar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "Introduction to Powers Training Seminar" was just as awful as it sounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long absence - however I will be attempting NaNoWriMo for the first time so I am hoping to be updating on an actual schedule soon! Thank you to anyone hanging in there!

Baze left his room and smiled at the collage adorning his door. It was colorful (but not ‘Chirrut-tastic’ colorful) and shaped like a campfire with his new name written in gold across the bottom. Blaze. 

Across the top he could see a playing card cut in the shape of a flame. Gambit was an odd one, for sure. He had spent the entire previous evening lounged across the bed and baiting Chirrut, but at the end of the night he had sneakily inserted his contribution to Baze’s door. 

Each person individually made a point to come and talk to him during the crafting session. Once it had become apparent that Baze had zero artistic talent, he was relegated to running to get snacks and handing Maz her paints and cleaning her brushes. Maz had a portable easel and paint kit, and in between handing her things and cleaning her brushes and then re-cleaning the brushes because he hadn’t gotten it right and then going back and shaping the brushes because apparently that was a thing, he learned that she could paint the future. 

“Really?” Baze was fascinated. 

Maz, carefully lining a cutout in gold, said absently, “I’ve always painted, but then the things I painted started coming true. It’s not really consistent and not always helpful, I have to be pretty familiar with something to paint it.”

“Does it work the opposite way, too? Like if you paint something a certain way will it make that future happen?” 

Maz smiled at him, brown hair curling wildly around her face, eyes shining through the thickest, roundest glasses that Baze had ever seen; “Fuck, I hope not. That would be pretty messed up. I’ll have to bring it up in training.”

Baze made a face and Maz laughed. “It’s not so bad,” Clint said, appearing next to Maz; “Here, let me,” and he grabbed the paint brushes out of Baze’s hand and disappeared. Lorna snorted, “You better come over here, Baze, before Clint gets even more jealous.” 

“Shut. Up.” said Maz, flicking paint over at Lorna with a smile. Baze wandered over to where Lorna was sitting with a blue skinned boy. “Kurt,” he introduced himself quietly, holding out his hand. Baze’s expression softened, thinking of the last Kurt he had been in school with, and gently shook his hand. “Neat tail,” Baze said, and Kurt’s tail lashed out in surprise, knocking over a pile of paper and spearing a piece of orange construction paper. 

Lorna doubled over laughing as Kurt brought his tail around and removed the paper, balling it up and throwing it at Lorna. “Scheisse,” Kurt mumbled, embarrassed. “Yes, neat. So neat. My neat goddamn tail,” and he flicked it around agitatedly, reminding Baze of a cat. Whap, whap, whap, the tail hit Lorna and then swung around again. 

They were all so casual with their powers, so comfortable with each other. Baze wanted that. If only he didn’t have to deal with the reality of his abilities. Baze traced the outline of his name on the door and reluctantly headed back to reality and what his schedule had called ‘Introduction to Powers Training Seminar’. It sounded awful.

…..

It was awful. 

Everyone else in the class was younger than he was and it was taught by Professor Organa herself; “And my brother, whenever he bothers to come home.” Class was held in an underground bunker that looked like it might double as a shooting range. The reinforced metal doors and giggling children made Baze feel like a hulk. The Professor gave a blithe speech about learning to respect your powers and each other and the training process and blah blah Baze felt sick. He watched each of the younger kids walk up to the center and try out their ‘powers’. One kid had angel wings. He was an ANGEL. And Baze was a monster. 

“Baze, your turn,” the Professor called out, and Baze snapped out a gruff, “No.”

The class was silent. The Professor looked at him for a moment and then said, “All right, end of class. All of the training and mentoring assignments will be sent out this week. Baze, my office.”

Baze skulked out behind the Professor, shame and anger mixing in his chest. Why? Why would anyone ever think that what Baze could do was any kind of good? 

When they reached the office Baze sat down across the desk from Professor Organa and stared at the desk calendar. The Professor sighed and started speaking, “My son, Ben, who you will meet and hopefully not judge me too harshly for, is a pyrokinetic. My father was also a pyrokinetic, who rather famously burned himself to death. Ben worships his grandfather’s memory and has refused any kind of serious training. He doesn’t want a ‘leash’ on his powers. You have the opposite problem of wanting to cage your powers so much that when they do manifest you have no control over them. You need practice. You don’t have to like it, but you will learn how your powers work and you will control them. You will make mistakes, like everyone else. Ben has burned this mansion down twice, so do your worst, kiddo.” 

Baze glared at her; “I don’t want to burn the mansion down! I don’t want to hurt anyone! Why do you want to make me hurt people!” Baze could feel the anger rising again and tried to tamp it down. He did not. want. this. 

Professor Organa reached out a hand and pressed it against Baze’s forhead. Baze instantly felt all emotion drain from him and slumped down in the chair. “If you had bothered to listen to the lecture,” the Professor continued sternly, “you would realize that a big part of your training will be figuring out your options, Baze. This is one. Constant monitoring and psychic suppression. It sucks and is unhealthy and frankly no one has time for it, but it is an option. Physical suppression, some sort of shield, I mean you can try yoga for goodness sake, if it worked for Bruce Banner it can work for you!”

She removed her hand and Baze shrank back into the chair feeling nauseous. “Your instructor will be here later this week and will work out your training schedule.”

“Instructor?” Baze was nervous again. 

“You really did not pay attention to a thing I said, did you?” Professor Organa asked, but with a smile. “Every student has specialized instruction, either in small groups or one-on-one with a teacher. Finn mentors kids with physical transformations, Rey does combat training, even I occasionally take on a protégé.” 

“Chirrut?” Baze made a hopeful motion at his head, “Can he do the…?”

“Yes, Chirrut. He would theoretically be capable of psychically suppressing your emotions, and possibly your power manifestation itself, but he has trouble linking with people for long periods of time without backlash. And one hell of a headache.”

“He said I was fine, that my brain was fine, that, um,” Baze stuttered out, “that I have a very ordered mind?”

“Interesting. Well, no practicing until I and your teacher can supervise and you’ve had a couple of solo lessons.”

“Teacher?” Baze hated how scared he sounded.

“I’d normally have Poe get you started on basic lessons but given how anxious you are about it I think it would be better to wait. He’ll be here this week, hopefully. He’s been lobbying in DC; well, more like harassing congresspersons in DC, let’s hope he didn’t get arrested this time.” As she was talking Professor Organa walked around the desk and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I am not taking your fears lightly, Baze. You have every right to be upset and scared, but I will do everything I can to give you the necessary tools to change that. Come on, up you get.” As she steered him away from the desk she smiled suddenly, “And have a fun evening!” 

Chirrut grabbed his hand the second Baze stepped outside the door, “Yes, we can totally practice. Later. Come on, they’ve set up Frozen in the lecture hall and Finn made popcorn!”

Stumbling along behind Chirrut, who was still holding his hand, Baze wasn’t sure if he wanted to run away or hide under the covers. Hanging out and watching a movie was the last thing he wanted to do. Chirrut, sensing his reluctance, turned his blank eyes towards him and said in an exaggeratedly serious tone, “Baze. Let it go.”

Baze and Chirrut were still giggling when the movie started.


End file.
